


And Thats When I Saw Her...

by Gayboy99



Category: SKAM Austin
Genre: Abusive Parents, Austin Music Scene, F/F, F/M, LGBTQ Characters, LGBTQ Story Lines, Lesbian Characters, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, SKAM Austin - Freeform, comming out, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:15:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14856872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gayboy99/pseuds/Gayboy99
Summary: A Shay Dixon season as I imagined it.





	1. Chapter 1

Playing gigs has become one of my favorite things. Who would have ever thought that this shy dork would actually enjoy going up in front of a massive crowd? It is even more surprising that this shy dork has become the face of the band, singing and playing the drums. 

Despite the anxiety storm that I thought playing live would bring, there is something truly enjoyable about standing up in front of a group of strangers. Because for our hour-long set I am in control of the mood of the room. A good crowd will respond to every change in the beat, every riff I play, every joke I make between songs. In this place, in this time we are all there for the same purpose, to let the music take all of our issues away.

What I don’t like, however, is the after party. This is when all the bands that played, along with some (“lucky?”) audience members, get together at someone’s house/apartment that will get trashed throughout the course of the night. What goes on at these gatherings, irresponsible drug usage, binge drinking, sloppy sex, and “my music is cooler than yours” posturing, most definitely takes away all the magic built up earlier in the night. But Marlon and Tyler insist that we go every time. Something about networking, and making it in the industry long term. That sort of thing only really matters to Marlon, but Tyler always does what Marlon wants to do. I go because they are all that I have and I can’t risk getting forgotten by them. Skip enough parties, blow off enough invites, and eventually, you will stop getting invited altogether.

“Shaaay. Shay. Earth to Shay!” Tyler’s voice cuts through my tired jumble of thoughts.

“WHAT?!” I snap with a half laugh.

“We’re here space cadet,” Marlon says.

I’m sitting in the middle seat of Marlon’s truck. I start to lean over Tyler for the door handle. “Common what are you shit heads waiting for?”

“Wait, wait. We need to go over the game plan,” Marlon says shaking my left shoulder.

“Game plan?” I ask with an eye roll.

“Yes,” Marlon breaths in deep and I know I am in for a long explanation. “Well, it has come to my attention…”

“Meaning you were talking to Will,” Tyler interrupts. Will is very likely the shittiest guy I have ever met. He is the organizer for these parties, and the lord of all things “in” for the small time bands of Austin. He wears massive rings on all of his fingers and I heard a rumor that he sells weed to middle schoolers. I don’t know if it’s warranted, but he makes all of my warning signals go off.

“Yes, but anyway,” Marlon continues. “He told me that we need to be seen having more fun at these things if we want to keep getting invited.”

“We have fun at these things,” Tyler says in a small voice.

“No, we have innocent fun. We need to have let loose, crazy type of fun,” Marlon explains.

“You know how I feel about this,” I say for what feels like the hundredth time. “I will never get too wasted again. I need to stay reasonably alert.”

“I know. I would never expect you to do that. But maybe you could smoke some weed, pretend to be a little drunk, and maybe flirt with a few guys. You don’t need to actually do anything, but you know talk to people who aren’t Tyler, me, or girls. And Tyler and I will act pretty drunk, dance with our shirts off...you know. Why are you looking at me like I’m crazy?” Marlon trails off.

“You want me to pretend to be fun?” I ask, mainly just to make him uncomfortable.

“No. I think you are fun, but I know that these things make you feel uncomfortable. I just want you to act a little less like a party mom and a little more like a party girl,” Marlon finishes, breathing for what seems like the first time since he started this talk.

“Okay, got it. I will let natural selection run its course,” I say teasingly, which lets Marlon know that I have heard him but I’m not mad at him. “Can we go?”

“Now that's the spirit!” Marlon says with a clap. “Just let me get something from the back.”

I jump down from the seat onto the driveway and walk around the front of the truck. Marlon has a drawstring backpack that he has pulled a bong and a bottle of vodka out of.

“Whoa, where did you get that,” Tyler asks sounding impressed.

“Stole it from my brother. He’s gonna kill me when he finds out,” Marlon admits.

We walk up the path towards Will’s house and Marlon opens the cracked front door. As soon as I walk in, I feel the panic setting in. I make myself small and hide a little behind Marlon. Will spots us and gives Marlon a big hug.

“The Grammas have arrived!” Will yells. He is either already drunk, or pretending to be. “And they brought some fun!”

An unfortunate byproduct of our band name (Clout From Grandma's Closet) is that everyone calls us the Grammas. Marlon hates it, but I think it's great.

“We always bring the fun!” Marlon yells back.

“Okay, okay,” Will says with a smile. “Head on in!”

Will skoots past us to greet the people coming in behind us. “I’m gonna head to the kitchen to light this up. You wanna come?” Marlon asks.

“Yeah, just let me go to the bathroom real quick,” I say.

“Shay, you really gotta get that bladder problem looked at,” Tyler teases.

“I did, they said it was my prostate,” I fire back.

“Oh shit, really?!” Tyler asks concerned. I shake my head laughing at him, Marlon is laughing at him too.

“What. What's so funny?” he asks still oblivious.

“Here, I’ll explain it to you,” Marlon says as they walk away towards the kitchen.

Once they leave the panic hits me even harder. I push through the crowd as fast as I can, and luckily the bathroom is free. I lean against the sink with my hands on either side. I close my eyes trying to catch my breath. I don’t know why I’m like this, why I can’t even go to a party without feeling like I am going to die. As the instinctual push to run leaves, my logic brain kicks back in. I stare at myself in the mirror, right in the eyes.

“It’s okay. You can do this. Your friends are out there, you have been here before, everything will be okay,” I say to myself. “It’s only one night.”

I dunk my hands under cold water and rub my fingers into my temples. One more breath and I leave the bathroom. My eyes adjust to the dim lighting again as I head to the kitchen. Marlon and Tyler have attracted a small crowd around the bong. I step in next to Tyler, waiting for my turn. Maybe weed will help me calm down, it usually does.

“You wash your hands?” Tyler teases.

“Yeah in the toilet, smell!” I giggle back, shoving my hands into his face.

“Hey! Shay, your turn,” Marlon says, handing it over to me.

I take it, breath in deep, hold it in for as long as I can stand, and exhale. I guess that this is the one cool thing that I am good at. I can usually get away with one or two good drags because I am so small. I only do one tonight because I am planning on walking home. The boys will likely sleep here in the back of Marlon’s truck, and my house is only three blocks away.

Whatever Marlon stole from his brother is actually pretty strong, I am already starting to feel it. I quickly lose interest in the flirting Marlon is doing with the girls sharing the bong. I take the time to look around a bit. The music playing is actually pretty good. Someone is in the living room actually DJing and he must have brought some small colorful lights. I look around at the people dancing, and that’s when I see her.

Maybe this is the weed speaking, but she might be one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen. She is dancing with complete abandon as if she is the only person in the room. Her hair is waving around with every movement of her body, it is long and brown with blue streaks. When she lifts her arms her shirt hikes up a little showing pale skin on a flat stomach. She is wearing a crop top and flowing pants that make her look like a modern gypsy.

“What are you staring at?” Tyler asks right in my ear, startling me.

“Let's go dance!” I say dragging him with me, not waiting for an answer. For a brief moment I worry about leaving Marlon alone, but when I look back he is successfully chatting up three girls. He’ll be fine.

I love dancing with Tyler. We are both really bad, but we can get away with being goofy together. We are able to keep up with the beat well enough, and anyone looking at us would be jealous of a friendship they will never have. We started at the front, but on the other side of the living room as the gypsy girl. I would be lying if I told you that I wasn’t sneaking glances at her and slowly trying to get us over towards her side of the dance floor. I very rarely feel this drawn to a person, even if I have had the time to get to know them. I know that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, most people end up disappointing me in the end.

As I watch I don’t see her talking to anyone, or dancing with anyone. Has she come alone? I would never have the courage to go out alone. Someone like that most certainly has a massive group of people in their squad, but she is dancing alone. But in walks Will. He comes up behind her, at first it looked like she didn’t know who he was. She flinched when came up behind her, I know that guys sometimes do that, come up behind a girl and dance with them without asking. But she turns around to face him and she is smiling. She tilts her head up and they kiss. The kind of kiss people who have been dating for a while have.

Out of all people why would she be Will’s girlfriend? Seriously? She could do miles better than a douchebag like him! I go back to dancing with Tyler, I try my best to not look at them. Tyler leans in and yells in my ear that he wants to go get a drink. He walks away and when I look up I see that Will and his girlfriend are fighting now. She is trying to push him away and she is yelling something that looks like “I’m fine!”

They walk out of the living room together and Will is holding onto her arm tightly. It looks like they are going somewhere more private to talk. I shake myself off from staring and decide that it is none of my business. I have an assignment to go talk to boys, so that is what I am going to do. The kitchen seems like a good idea. Its quieter and I can maybe start a conversation with someone over drinks or food or something. When I get into the kitchen there is no one in there. I grab a red solo cup and pour myself some coke. As I am screwing the cap back on a guy walks into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says with a smile. “What are you drinking?”

“Gin and coke,” I answer. It's only half a lie.

“Ooh that sounds good,” he says. “You’re Shay from Clout From Grandma’s Closet, right?”

“Yeah,” I say, surprised that he knew our full name and mine. “You a fan?”

“Is it that obvious?” he jokes.

“Just a little,” I say holding up my fingers to show just a little bit of space between my acrylic nails. “So are you in a band or just a groupie?”

“In a band, but we are still very much in our garage phase,” he admits. “But after tonight’s show, I’m a Gramma groupie for sure!”

“Thank you! But cherish those garage days, they go too fast,” I advise, and I actually mean it.

“It makes me feel a little out of place here though,” he says, and I can tell that he is nervous. “We are much better now that Julianna joined, she has the most beautiful voice.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t think I’ve met her,” I say, the truth is I don’t know most of the people here by name.

“Really? She is Will’s girlfriend,” he says. “She was our ticket into this fine establishment.” The hint of sarcasm in his voice made me like him even more.

“Well, I would love to hear you guys if you ever leave the garage. Who should I look out for?” I ask.

“Well the name that we are liking these days is Kenopsia,” he says, pausing to try to gauge what I thought of the name. “Anyway, it’s Julianna, Benji our drummer, and me, Kyle, I play guitar.”

“That’s such a cool name, how’d you come up with it?” I ask.

“It was Julianna actually. The first song we wrote with her, she said reminded her of Kenopsia,” he explains. “It apparently means the feeling you get late at night or early in the morning when you walk through places that are usually packed with people.”

“Wow,” I sigh. “We just used one of those band name generators online.”

“Really?” he laughs. “Well, I guess it worked out. I love your band’s name.”

There is a short pause and another boy comes into the kitchen and Kyle lights up with a massive smile when he sees him. I was a little surprised by the hug and quick kiss that they shared. It is Austin and it is pretty accepting of LGBTQ people, but I am pretty much a stranger to them.

Kyle turns to face me again and says, “Shay, this is Benji, my boyfriend. Benji, this is the one and only Shay of Clout from Grandma’s Closet.”

“It's nice to meet you, Shay,” Benji says, shaking my hand. “What do I have to do to get that sort of an introduction?”  
“I don’t know, maybe being in a band that isn’t stuck in their garage,” Kyle teases.

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” I say. “Being in the garage phase is so relaxing. You don't have to worry about pleasing all the fans.” I fluff my hair jokingly.

“Okay, I like you,” says Benji. “Let’s leave now while we have only met cool people.”

“You promised me dancing,” Kyle fake whines.

“The DJ is actually pretty good,” I say, backing up Kyle.

“See there’s even a DJ. You can’t say no to that,” Kyle pleads.

“Okay, let’s go then,” Benji gives up easily.

Before they leave Kyle gives me a quick hug and Benji waves goodbye. They said that was nice to meet me and I said it back. This never happens to me, meeting people that I actually enjoy at parties, but I guess it is possible. Maybe they weren’t the sort of guys that Marlon wanted me to talk to, but I’d say that I won some socializing points. I go to the doorway of the kitchen and look out at the rest of the party. I look for anyone that I could possibly talk to. Everyone looks too faded to be of much use. Panic is starting to build up in my chest again. I look for Marlon and Tyler, but they aren’t anywhere to be found. Everyone is grouped up and off in their own world. It dawns on me that I am the only one in this house that is standing alone, and that realization makes me feel like the whole house is crushing in on me. I need some air. I need some air.

I don’t remember the walk to the door, but I push it open. The cold night air makes me feel instantly better. I seem to have found the backyard, I am standing on the porch, and there are strings of lights lighting up the whole yard. A noise makes me look over to the bench across porch from me. I’m not alone out here, I see a girl in a hoodie. She has her head in her hands, and she is crying.

The mom in me can’t help but go up to her. “Are you okay?” I ask placing a hand on her shoulder.

I must have startled her because she looks up quickly. I realize that it is Julianna, the girl I watched dance, the girlfriend of Will, the singer from Kenopsia. When she looks up I can see that she has a deep gash just above her eye in her eyebrow line, and there is a bruise forming around her eye. 

“Oh my god, what happened?” I ask, sitting down on the bench next to her.

“There was a fight,” she starts. “I got hit, he didn’t mean it…”

“You are bleeding pretty bad,” I say, not believing her story. But I decide to help her calm down first before challenging it. “Can I see?”

She looks at me then nods and moves her hand. I swallow back my squeamishness and look closer at the gash. It looks about as deep as my brother’s cut looked when he needed stitches.

“Hmm, I think that you might need some stitches,” I say.

“I don’t have a car,” she says still clearly out of sorts.

“Its okay, there is a hospital only a block away. I’ll walk with you,” I offer. 

“Really?” she asks in a voice that melts my heart. 

“Absolutely,” I say back. “Come on, let's go.”


	2. Chapter 2

I am aware of my foot tapping on the floor of the hospital waiting room, but that doesn’t mean that I can keep myself from doing it. Julianna is surprisingly calm, slouched in her chair with her eyes closed. 

“Oh, come on! That guy arrived later than we did!” I groan, after seeing the nurse call a college-age guy clutching his arm. 

“Stitches aren’t prioritized in ERs,” she says, still with her eyes closed. “You only need to get stitched up within 24 hours of the injury.”

“How do you know that?” I ask, shifting to face her. 

She opens her eyes and straightens up in her chair a little. “My dad is a surgeon,” she says. 

“Seriously, what type?” I ask, maybe a little too eagerly. 

“Orthopedic,” she starts. “That's the one that does…”

“Bones, joints, muscles and stuff, right?” I ask. “I may be a little bit of a ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ fan, even though I know it's not realistic whatsoever.”

“No it's not,” she agrees. “But my dad loves it. I catch him watching it all the time. He’s so embarrassed, but he lives for the drama. When we pick what to watch, I always suggest it because I know he wants to watch it.”

“Well, what's your favorite show then?” I ask. 

“Easy, ‘Game of Thrones’,” she answers without a moment of hesitation. 

“I could never say just one,” I respond. “I have to do at least top three.”

“Well, what are the three?”

“Okay, so, in no particular order… ‘Stranger Things’, ‘Sense8’, and ‘Orange is the New Black’.” 

“Yeah, those are good, but ‘Game of Thrones’ is better than all of those combined.” 

“How can you say that?” I ask incredulously. “Those are my all-time favorites. Have even seen them?”

“As a matter of fact, I have. And yes they are good, but ‘Game of Thrones’ takes the cake. It takes all the cakes, even cakes that haven’t been made yet.” 

“I don’t know about that. What are you basing your opinion on?” 

“The wait is long here, but not long enough to explain entirely,” she sighs dramatically. “We will just have to watch it together.” 

I don't want to get my hopes up, but it sounds like she might want to extend our circumstantial friendship beyond this weird night. “I’d like that,” is all I am able to say. 

She also must have sensed the tone change in the conversation. “Thank you so much by the way. You have been so good to me, taking care of me tonight. It really means so much. Not everyone would have done what you are doing, for a stranger no less.”

“It’s no problem, anyone would have done the same,” I say lowering my eyes and trying not to blush, but probably failing.

“That’s not true,” she says trying to catch my eye again. “Or do you have the rest of the people from the party hidden away in your pockets?”

“Maybe I do,” I laugh. “There’s a whole ‘Honey I Shrunk the Kids’ situation up in this bitch!”

She laughs, perhaps a little too much, because she winces in pain and holds her palm up to her forehead. 

“So which hospital does your dad work at?” I ask. “Isn’t there my dad’s a surgeon here, get me in now card we could be playing right about now?”

“Well, we moved here only a month ago, and he specializes in trauma injuries. They have him on call between four different hospitals. I don’t even know if this is one of them,” she explains.

“Julianna Dahlson?” a male voice calls into the waiting room.

“Here,” she says turning towards the nurses’ desk. “Oh, speak of the devil, it's my dad.” 

He walks over to us giving Julianna a huge hug once he reaches us. 

“So Jules, do you wanna explain why I got a notification from the receptionist before I got a text, or a call, or even a smoke signal from you first?” he asks, genuine concern sneaking in with his humor.

“I knew you were in surgery?” she suggests.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, give me an excuse that I haven’t heard before,” he says giving her another hug. 

“This is my friend, Shay, by the way,” she says distracting her dad from asking more questions. 

“Ah, Shay. I’m Phil,” he says giving me a hug as well. “You must be the kind soul that took care of my clumsy daughter?”

“I did my best,” I laugh.

“Okay well. If you don’t mind I’ll take you both back real quick, patch this one up. And then drive you home Shay. Sound good?”

“Well, of course, I want to see my savior duties through till the end, but after I can walk home. My apartment is only like three blocks away from here so I don’t want to bother you,” I say.

“Yeah, you’re right. Three blocks are no biggie, I can for sure drive you there,” he turns my logic around on me. “Well ladies, this way please.” 

He leads us through the doors and into the first exam room on the right. Julianna settles in on the exam table. I sit down on the padded chair in the corner and try to get used to the smell of antiseptic. 

“So this is when you tell me what happened,” he prompts.

“As usual, my affected skin area was in the wrong place at the wrong time…”

“Cut the bull shit please,” the stare that he gives her could melt a brick wall. 

She signs giving up. “It was Will. We were fighting and he had too much to drink. And I think it was one of his rings that cut me.”

“Don’t make excuses for him.”

“That's not what I meant to do.”

“Is this the first time he has ever done this?”

“Yes, and this is the last. I broke up with him as soon as he did it.”

“Are you sure it’s over?”

“Of course,” she says kind of hurt that he didn’t trust her completely. “I have too much self-respect to let that not be true.”

“Happy to hear that,” he says and it seems as if they are done talking about it for now. “So any guesses about how many stitches it will be this time?”

“I’m guessing three,” she says. 

“Shay? Any guesses?”

“Wait, you’ve had to get stitches before?” I ask still a little shell-shocked from the conversation that I just overheard. 

“Yeah,” Julianna begins. “Before when we lived in Colorado, I mountain biked and skied and you know sometimes shit happens.”

“What my daughter fails to mention is that she is clumsy, but insists on doing extreme sports just to make me go even grayer,” he teases pulling on his already salt and pepper hair. 

“No, I do those sports because I love them. And besides, I got more injuries playing soccer,” she defends herself. 

“True, you were more clumsy in soccer,” he is relentless. 

“Why did you move away from Colorado?” I ask it is clear that they loved it there, especially Julianna. I can't help but notice that my question made Julianna look a little sad. 

“We moved to Austin to be closer to family,” Phil quickly answers. “So, Shay we still are waiting for your stitches estimate.”

“I don’t know. 5?” I throw out a random number. It’s a pretty small cut, but sometimes the stitches are really small. 

“Either way, we will have to shave off the eyebrow.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Just kidding.”

The whole process of numbing, cleaning, sterilizing, and stitching the wound was much quicker than I expected. With Phil’s expert hands it didn’t take more than 20 minutes. It seems wildly unfair that we had to wait for an hour and a half for care that only took 20 minutes. The grand total of stitches turned out to be 4 stitches, exactly between our two estimates. We had left the party fairly early so it was only 11:45 by the time we all piled into Phil’s BMW. I sat in the back seat and told Phil where to turn to get to my apartment. When he pulled into the parking spot Julianna shifted around in her seat. 

“Thank you so much again, Shay,” she says. “I’m so happy to have met you, even though it wasn’t the best circumstances.”

“I like to start all my friendships with a trip to the ER,” I joke. “But normal people try to avoid that bonding activity.” 

“Ha! I like this girl,” Phil declares. 

“Hand me your phone, and I’ll enter my number,” Julianna says.

I try to pull my phone out a little slow to shrug off my excitement. When I press the home button, nothing happens. I press it again, and nothing. “Shit. It’s dead,” I say showing her the dark screen. 

“Here put yours in mine.”

I enter my number in her phone and say my thanks for the ride. When I get out of the car Julianna gets out too and gives me a hug. 

“Good night, and thanks again,” she says softly while we hug. She smells slightly like oranges, lavender, and hospital antiseptic. 

“Good night, tell your dad to drive safely,” I say as we separate. I wave them off as they back out of their parking space. I walk up the stairs to the dark and empty apartment. My two apartment mates must still be out. They both are in relationships so it isn’t unusual for them to not come home on Friday nights. The first thing I do is take off my shoes, plug in my phone, and put on my pajamas. After using the bathroom I go back into my room to see if my phone is charged enough to turn on. I text Marlon and Tyler that I made it home safely. They are probably too wasted to read it now, but they will see it when they wake up tomorrow. I see a notification for a new voicemail. I open the voicemail and hear Julianna’s voice say: 

"Hello, Shay. The one and only Julianna Dahlson speaking. Best answering message by the way. Cheers to an unusual night, I’m happy it was you who found me. Anyway, I would love to hang out sometime. I believe I owe you some ‘Game of Thrones’. So call me back, or text me if that is more your style. I will also accept the good old smoke signal or carrier pigeon. Anyway, good night and thanks again."

I listen to the message twice more and archive it. I also make a new contact under Julianna’s name. I fall asleep with a smile on my face.


	3. Chapter 3

_A hot comb and sharp finger nails rake violently through my hair._

_Mother: Shay Rebecca Dixon! What have you done to your hair?_

_Me (if you can call it that): It was raining Ma._

_Mother: Am I raising an idiot? All this time I spend on your hair and you never thought to bring an umbrella?_

_Me (if you can call it that): I’m sorry Ma. I forgot it at home._

_Mother: Its always something. Nothing is ever your fault. Always an excuse._

_Her tugging at my hair becomes more violent. Involuntary tears well behind my eyes. Don’t show weakness. Don’t show strength. Be a shell of yourself._

_Father: Selma? Did you buy these for me? They are much too small, and the color isn’t right._

_He comes in holding a pair of my boxer briefs. The turquoise ones that I show the waistband of when I wear my ripped jeans._

_Mother was never supposed to see them. I washed them in the middle of the night when she was asleep. I thought that I brought them to my room and hid them where I hide all of my clothes. My clothes that I wear in secret, not her clothes that she makes me wear everywhere she has control over me._

_Mother: I didn’t buy those for you, I can’t have my husband walking around like a faggot._

_Father: Well they were in the laundry room. Where did they come from?_

_The room goes silent. They both look at me._

_Mother: Unbelievable...this is really unbelievable. I thought I beat the dyke out of you, but I guess you can never teach a mule._

_Me (if you can call it that): Ma, I’m sorry. I know what it looks like, but those aren’t mine._

_Mother: Don’t you dare lie to me. What do you do when you aren’t in this house? Don’t you respect me? Are you accountable to nothing? Do you have anything to say?_

_Me (if you can call it that): Ma, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, tell me what you want me to do._

_Mother: There is really no changing you is there? What did I do to deserve a leech like you?_

_Father: Selma please, don’t say anything that you’ll regret._

_Mother: Regret? Let me tell you about regret. I regret bringing you into this world, I regret every ounce of energy that you have sucked from me. I regret that I didn’t tell you to go and get yourself killed before now._

_Me (if you can call it that): Ma, please. I can change, please just give me another chance._

_The sound of glass breaking registered in my mind before the pain did. She had broken her water glass over my head._

_Mother: Don’t talk to me about chances, you have used every last one of them. Leave._

_And that night I left, with nothing in my pockets except my phone. Where does a sixteen-year-old girl go when she has been kicked out of the only home that she has ever known?_

...

I wake up from my nightmare drenched in sweat. Can you call something a nightmare when it actually happened and has been haunting you for a month since it happened? Isn’t it actually a flashback, or PTSD?

My mother and I were never safe together. The hatred and anger would build up until it exploded in violence. My older brother used to be a buffer, he had a way with her. He was able to calm her when nothing else would. When he joined the military we reached a tipping point. Our house was a war zone, me never knowing what would set her off. After every fight, she would feel bad in the morning. She would take me shopping and we would get our nails done. Acrylic nails, long enough to interfere with daily tasks, but not long enough to be considered “prostitute length.” She was as obsessed with my femininity as I was desperate to hide my true identity from her.

Eventually we reached an agreement, as long as she only ever saw me in appropriately feminine clothing and I made myself agreeable at home, I could spend most of my time away from home. As long as that time was spent with Marlon, my mother was obsessed with the idea of Marlon. She was overjoyed that I spent so much time with a boy, a boy whose parents went to her church. As soon as I left the house I would change into the clothes that I felt comfortable in, and I would spend as much time as possible away from home. She rarely checked in with me when I was out, it felt like freedom...almost. The more time that I spent away from her, the more violent she would be when I finally came back. I have never known freedom, even now all it would take is a change of heart on her part. All she would need to do is invoke her parental rights. I am still a minor, I am still bound to her.

I sit down at my desk and pull out my nail kit. I chop my nails down as far as I can and soak what's left in acetone. After thirty minutes of work, my nails are bare and short, for the first time since I was thirteen. Fuck that bitch if she thinks she still controls me.

…

**To Julianna:**

Hey. How are you feeling today?

I know a text is less impressive than a carrier pigeon, but the pigeons on the roof are resistant to domestication.

**From Tyler:**

Hey Vagina! We’re hungover. Meet at IHOP?

**To Tyler and Marlon:**

Yeah dickhead. Be there in 10

**From Marlon:**

Yall are fuckin weird

…

“Pass the syrup, please,” I say for the third time.

“Jesus! You don’t need to yell,” Tyler whines. He is holding his glass of ice water up to his forehead. “Here’s your syrup you sugar demon.”

“Thank you grumpy pants,” I mutter.

“Shay, where’d you go last night? We didn’t see you leave,” Marlon asks, not looking up from his strawberry pancakes.

“Well…” I start. “I may have dealt with some party mom duties.”

“Come on!” Marlon laughs, looking up to make eye contact with me. “You were supposed to let loose.”

“Well I was doing an okay job,” I defend. “I met some people who are in a band with Will’s girlfriend. They were really nice, but then when they left to dance I went outside for some air.”

“And you never came back?” Tyler asks. “What did you get lost in their backyard.”

“No asshole,” I laugh. “Julianna, Will’s girlfriend was out there. She was bleeding and needed stitches. I walked her to the hospital, and went home once she was done with the doctor.”

“Oh shit. Is she okay? What happened?” Marlon asks.

“I don’t know. She was pretty out of it. I think she just tripped and hit her head on the step,” I lie. I don’t really know why I felt the need to lie, I guess I still subconsciously think that when people hurt the people that they love, it should be kept secret. I hate myself a little for protecting him because with that split second decision to lie I chose to protect the reputation of the wrong person.

“Shit! She must have been pretty drunk,” Tyler says.

“Yeah, people were getting wild last night,” Marlon agrees. “So who are these band members you talked to?”

“Oh yeah. Their names are Benji and Kyle. They and Julianna are in a band called Kenopsia…” I was going to explain the meaning behind their name, but Marlon interrupts me.

“Are you serious?” Marlon laughs. “What kind of a pretentious, gay name is Kenopsia? I bet they make some Indie bullshit.”

What he said makes me so angry I don’t even know where to begin. “I bet you don’t even know what Kenopsia means, you semiliterate ass! And Indie can be good.”

“Woah, watch out! Fiesty Shay is coming out this morning. I never knew that you were such a big fan of Indie music,” Marlon tries to shrug off the tension.

What really bothered me in what he said wasn’t even what I defended, it was the fact that he used the word gay, as if that was a bad thing. “Whatever, they were really nice is all,” I try to end the conversation.

“Well tell us, did either of them seem into you? I bet you they were gay,” Marlon continues.

“So what if they were?” I say, barely above a mumble.

“Oh they were, weren’t they?” Marlon won’t give up.

“Fine they were, but I still don’t see why that matters,” I give in.

Marlon laughs at my admission. He looks at Tyler and back at me, realizing that neither of us are laughing. Tyler and I share a knowing look. We love Marlon, but sometimes he can really be an idiot. It isn’t entirely his fault, it is how he was raised. His parents tried to teach him to be disgusted by almost every minority group. Surprisingly he turned out pretty liberal and kindhearted. The one thing that he can’t seem to keep his foot out of his mouth about is LGBT people and issues. He once told me that his parents would die if they found out that he was friends with ‘a queer.’ Boy if he only knew that not one, but both of his best friends are some of those queers his parents are so afraid of.

Thank god I have Tyler. Tyler is really the only person that I have been completely honest with about my sexuality and identity. I came out to him in seventh grade, only a year after meeting him. When I came out to him, he came out right back at me. Since that day he has always been there to talk to, and to take me in after an episode with my mom. He even helped me get into the displaced LGBT youth apartment building that I live in now. We always agreed that we wouldn’t come out to Marlon unless we had to, meaning that we fell in love with someone. Back then we thought it would be easier that way, but now I am starting to feel like that might not be true. It eats away at me sometimes keeping this part of myself secret from a friend that I have known since I was four. He knows absolutely everything about me, except this.

The boys and I have casual banter for the rest of breakfast and in the car, but my heart isn’t in it anymore. Marlon drives us home, dropping both of us off at Tyler’s. Tyler drives me to my apartment, that Marlon doesn’t know about. Marlon knows that my mom kicked me out, but he thinks that I am still living at Tyler’s.

I don’t do much for the rest of the day. I feel emotionally exhausted and unable to focus on anything. That is, until my phone dings:

**From Julianna:**

Sorry for not getting back sooner. I had a killer headache all day.

You are absolutely able to say no, but Kyle, Benji and I have an extra ticket for the festival on Tuesday night and were wondering if you wanted to come with us. Our tickets are just for the music, but it should be pretty good.

**To Julianna:**

I’m always in for live music! I have work until 6 though.

**From Julianna:**

Where do you work?

**To Juliana:**

On UT campus. Bio labs building.

**From Julianna:**

That’s actually perfect! We were planning on parking near there around 6:20ish and taking the bus to the field. The concert starts at 7.

We’ll pick you up on our way. I’m excited that you’re in!!

**To Julianna:**

Are you kidding me? I am the concert queen! See you then!

**From Julianna:**

Yay, see you then! Good night :)

**To Julianna:**

Good night :)


	4. Chapter 4

(Tuesday Morning)  
Everyone in the apartment is up way too early for summer mornings, because everyone has jobs. It is 6:30 am and Hayley and myself are glaring into our bowls of cereal. None of us are morning people, the worst of us is Maika, he isn’t even awake. We are the type of friends that happened entirely by circumstance. Hayley was orphaned when her mom died of an overdose, she happened upon this group home for LGBTQ after hitchhiking her way from El Paso to Austin. Maika was kicked out by his parents when he, who at the time was Michelle, came out as transgender. This place has been a saving grace for all of us, and we have become pretty close friends because of it. 

“It’s your turn to wake him up,” Hayley groans after looking at her watch. 

“I thought it was your turn,” I groan back. She shakes her head. “Fine,” I sigh pushing myself up from the table dramatically. Usually, I am in a better mood on Tuesday mornings, because this is the workday that I enjoy the most. Today I get to work as a lab assistant at UT. All I do is clean the lab equipment and set up experiments for the teaching assistants, but it feels like I am gaining experience in the field that I actually want to go into. I doubt at this point that college will actually happen for me, but it feels good to be this close to the college classes that I want to take. My bad mood might be due to the extra anxiety that I am feeling this morning. I know the anxiety is coming from. Don’t get me wrong, I am excited to go to the music festival tonight, but there are so many unknowns surrounding it. 

I shuffle over to Maika’s door and knock on the door loudly. “Maika, you are going to be late for work,” I yell. There is no answer. That means that I will have to enter the smelliest man cave that I have ever witnessed. I open the door and the smell is all consuming.

“Maika, don’t make me break out the air horn,” I say shaking him.

“I’m up!” he yells sitting up surprisingly quickly. His hair is in an absolute mess and the expression that he makes is actually kind of endearing. 

“Really, the snoring a second ago would beg to differ,” I giggle. 

“Fuck off!” he jokes, throwing a pillow at me as I leave.

“Fine, I’ll let you get fired from this job as well,” I joke. “How else will you be able to afford your pizza rolls?”

“Agh fine you win!” he yells. “I appreciate you and I love you. It takes a true saint to deal with me in the morning.” His list of praises continues on until I am out the door of our apartment. My mood has lightened a little bit as I walk away from home. 

…

“Good morning Zoya,” I say as I walk in. “Did you know that clownfish can change their gender?” 

“Everyone knows that,” she sighs. “Honestly you are slacking a little bit.

We always start off our conversations with weird biology facts. I don’t really know how it started, but we have been keeping it up all summer. “Yeah yeah yeah, what is yours then?”

“Okay, honey never goes bad, so you could eat 3000-year-old honey if you wanted to,” Zoya says.

“Well if I had 3000-year-old honey I wouldn’t eat it, I would sell it,” I say honestly.

“Who would buy 3000-year-old honey?” Zoya says. “Not everyone knows that it would be edible.”

“If people think that 100-year-old eggs and bird nest soup are delicacies, they will most definitely eat 3000-year-old honey,” I retort. “The internet is a marketplace with infinite possibilities.”

“Okay I guess that makes sense,” she agrees. “So how did you like my fact?”

“I asked for a gross one, or a funny one,” I fake whine. 

“Well I thought it was gross,” she says. “The only ones that you like are about weird animal sex.”

“Yeah because I think its funny to think about you researching weird animal sex,” I laugh.

“Oh because a Muslim girl can't think about sex?” she asks making the conversation serious and a little awkward. 

“No, because your computer must think that you are into animal porn or something based off of your search history,” I laugh trying to lighten the mood a little. 

“Hmm,” she says. I have learned that this noise means that she isn’t entirely convinced that she shouldn’t feel offended, but wants to change the subject. 

“So,” I start awkwardly. “Do you want to start off with making the diluted solutions today? I could measure the solids and you could measure the liquids?” 

“Sounds good to me,” she says. I like working with her, we are an efficient pair, and we are usually able to keep up light conversations. 

We are busy working on our measuring tasks when Zoya breaks the silence, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” I ask.

“You are tapping your leg more vigorously than usual,” she says. Sometimes it surprises me how much she notices. 

“I guess I am a little nervous,” I admit. 

“What about?” she asks not letting me get away with my vague answers. 

“I’m meeting some friends after work. We are going to the music festival on campus,” I start. “Well, I guess that I am nervous because they are sort of new friends and I...they...I don’t know.”

“Isn’t the festival a Pride thing?” she asks not looking up from her graduated cylinder. 

“I don’t know,” I say maybe a little too quickly. “They just said that it was a music festival.”

There is a pause and my mind is racing. “Well I don’t think that you should be nervous, music is where you feel confident, like yourself, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I admit.

“Well then you will be fine,” she says. “They can’t help but like you.” 

“Thanks. That’s really nice of you to say Zoya,” I say. It’s pretty rare that she says something so nice, and it really did make me feel better about tonight. 

…

 

I walk out the door of the Biology building and look around. I realize that we didn’t actually plan where we were going to meet. I pull out my phone to text Julianna, but I hear a group approaching. 

“Shay!” it’s Julianna’s voice. 

“Hey guys,” I say turning towards them. I was surprised to see them here, it was almost like Julianna had planned for us to meet up with each other perfectly. Julianna is wearing a fairly plain outfit that fits her perfectly. Her makeup was beautiful, she had pretty extreme rainbow eye makeup, probably to cover up the bruise. The boys were wearing shirts that said ‘I’m with stupid’ and had an arrow pointing at the other boy. I wonder if they are planning on standing on this same side of each other the whole night so the shirts will be correct. 

“What a small world!” Kyle says in a booming voice. “That the cool girl that we met would be the same cool girl who would take care of my cousin.”

“Wait, you two are cousins?” I ask. Now that I see them standing next to each other, I definitely see it. They are the type of cousins that look like they could actually be siblings. 

“Yeah he is part of the family that we moved to Austin to be closer to,” Julianna says.

“She just couldn’t stand to live so far away. She would be lost without seeing this beautiful face every day,” Kyle teases. Benji rolls his eyes endearingly. 

“Wow, now I see it,” I say. “You guys really do look alike.”

“Our mothers were twins,” Julianna says with a slight hint of sadness. 

“So anyway,” I say breaking the silence. “I didn’t know that this was a Pride thing. I didn’t really dress for it…”

“No its fine,” Benji says. “It’s only sort of a Pride thing. UT doesn’t really plan that many Pride events, and since the headliner is gay, some of us wanted to make it an honorary Pride event.”

All I can think of is if Julianna came as an ally, or as something more. 

…

My anxiety is usually pretty manageable at live music events. This sort of a crowd makes me feel anonymous like I can just exist as myself and no one will have any issue with it. Usually, some anxiety still lingers in the back of my mind, but not tonight. The whole night we moved seamlessly as a group, it might seem childish, but I always had at least one hand on me when we moved, making sure that I didn’t get separated from them. 

The music was good, every band had their own sound and unique stage presence. We danced, soaking in the music. Everyone was smiling and laughing. The night was pretty perfect. I couldn’t help but notice that Julianna brushed off every guy that gave her eyes and tried to dance a little too close to her. It might be her recent breakup talking, but it made me feel just a little bit special to be the only one allowed to dance close to her, even if it was just as friends. 

When the last band finished we walked and chatted playfully away from the venue. “Shay we are going home, we all live together at my house. You are welcome to join,” Julianna says. 

“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t want to bother you,” I say. “I was just going to bus home, also I have work in the morning…”

“Are you kidding me! You are so much fun you wouldn’t bother us at all,” Kyle pleads. 

“Plus wouldn’t it take you like an hour on the bus to get home from here?” Julianna asks. 

“Yeah, but I’m used to it,” I say.

“Come on, I will drive you to work in the morning,” Julianna says. “I think you would actually get more sleep if you come with us.” 

“Wow, you really think of everything don’t you?” I ask.

“Is that a yes?” Julianna leads on.

“I guess, yes. That's a yes,” I say.


	5. Chapter 5

When Julianna said that I would get more sleep at their house, she lied to me. It wasn’t entirely her fault, I was so hyped up from this evening it would have taken me several hours to calm down if I was alone. But I wasn’t alone, my body, my brain, my everything couldn’t get past that fact.

We drove to their house, it was in a nice neighborhood with a lot of trees. I started to imagine what their house would look like, what does the house of a surgeon look like? The house that I was building in my mind looked a lot like the Cullen’s house from Twilight. Say what you want about those movies, but everyone would kill to live in that house. 

When the car stopped, a vampire mansion wasn’t what I saw. It was a warm looking stone house with a steeply pitched roof. It looks like a historical house with some modern renovations.

We walk up to the front door along a curved stone walkway. Julianna expertly unlocks the arched front door and pushes the door open. We are greeted by the least threatening guard puppy in the world. 

“Hi, Luna girl,” Julianna coos. “This is our friend Shay.”

The dog runs up to me and licks my outstretched hand. “Hi, nice to meet you cutie,” I laugh. 

“She is a blue staffy puppy,” Julianna says lifting up Luna. “They are supposedly an aggressive breed, but little Luna wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I don’t know,” I joke. “She nearly killed me with her cuteness.”

We walk in through the entryway onto creaky wood floors. Their house is one of those older houses that were built with each room being separated by walls and open doorways. Usually, houses like that make me feel claustrophobic, but not this one. I follow the three of them into the kitchen.

“God I’m starving!” Julianna groans. My stomach rumbles in agreement. “What do we have,” Julianna hums to herself. 

“Leftover pizza!” Kyle yells from where he is impatiently standing behind Julianna. 

“Pizza sounds good to you Shay?” Julianna pokes her head around the refrigerator door and under Kyle’s arm.

“You kidding me? Pizza always sounds good to me,” I say eagerly. 

I laughed harder than I have in a long time, sitting around their dining room table eating cold pizza. As we talk I see Benji get sleepier and sleepier. At one point he is chewing with his eyes closed.

“Awe it’s past my baby’s bedtime,” Kyle says, rubbing circles on Benji’s back. 

“Fuck off,” Benji groans. “I’m wide awake.” We all laugh because his eyes are drooping more with every second. 

“I can see that,” Kyle says. “Well good night beautiful ladies.”

“Good night,” Julianna says. Kyle leans down and kisses Julianna on the cheek. The boys give me a wave as they walk out of the dining room. 

I start stacking the plates. “Oh you don’t have to do that,” Julianna says popping out of her mild zone out session.

“I’m happy to,” I say without stopping. We collect all the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. 

“So the boys live in what would be our guest bedroom, we can share my room, or I can sleep on the couch if you want,” Julianna rambles, breaking the silence.

“You kidding me? I don’t want to kick you out of your room. I’m fine sharing if you are,” I say.

“Yeah that’s cool,” she says. “I don’t snore so you should be fine.”

“I don’t either,” I laugh. 

I follow her upstairs and the dog follows right behind me. Luna would be right on Julianna’s heals if she could. She turns on the light in her room and it is both clean and messy, both lived in and empty. She looks to be half moved in. The half that is moved in has her personality stamped on it. There are pictures of family and friends and drawings done in black ink.

“Did you draw these?” I ask.

“Yeah, most of them,” she says. “My mom did all the ones with watercolor.”

“They are all amazing,” I say truly impressed. 

“Thanks,” she says with that hint of sadness again. She walks over to her dresser and pulls out two large shirts. “Do you want shorts to sleep in as well?”

“Oh yes please,” I say picking up the Nirvana shirt she passed me. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.”

“So what is that going to be?” I ask pointing to the small area of the wall that has multiple shades of blue paint on it. 

“An ocean scene,” she says.

“Like with fish and everything?” I ask.

“No,” she laughs. “Just waves.”

“Can’t wait to see it,” I say with a smile. I can tell that she is a little embarrassed talking about her artwork. “So where is the bathroom?”

“Oh sorry. It’s just around the corner,” she says. 

I try to keep my time in the bathroom short. I change into the clothes that she handed to me, they are some of the softest I have ever worn. I wash my face, brush my teeth with some toothpaste on my finger, and swish some mouthwash. 

I knock before coming in her room again. She has changed into her pajamas and is taking her rainbow makeup off. “Bathroom’s all yours,” I declare.

She leaves for the bathroom and I can’t help but feel a little awkward standing in her room alone. Luna jumping up onto the bed reminds me that I am actually not alone in the room. She looks up at me wagging her tail. I’m not fluent in dog, but I think that means “pet me!” 

“She jumped up onto the bed too confidently for me to think that she wasn’t allowed to,” I say when Julianna walks back in. 

“Oh she broke all the rules on her first day, and is too cute to scold,” she says. “Here some water for you.” 

I accept the glass of water that she hands me and I set it down on the side of the bed that I am standing on. After setting down her water she makes a big show of face planting into her pillow out of exhaustion. 

“That tired huh?” I laugh as I slip under the covers next to her. I prop my head on my hand so I am facing her. My heart races a little being this close to her. 

“Mmhmm,” her muffled voice says. She lifts her head and lays the same way that I am to face me. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Absolutely!” I say enthusiastically. “It was a great show. It was a little stressful watching that one lead singer though, the one that kept dancing so close to the fan.”

“The one with the long hair?” she asks.

“Yeah! I kept imagining his hair getting sucked in!” I say.

“Well if it did, he would have something in common with Beyonce,” she laughs.

“What?”

“The same thing happened to Beyonce. Have you not seen the video?” she scoffs. 

“No, can’t say that I have.”

“Well, her hair got sucked in, but she kept performing. She sang like nothing happened as her security pulled her hair out of it,” she explains. “I’ll send you the video tomorrow.”

“Please do. I hope her weave is okay,” I joke with an excessive amount of worry in my voice.

“I think the weave is fine now. It happened a while ago,” she reassures me with a laugh.

“I hope so. But PTSD is real.”

“Now I’m imagining her hair pulling her away whenever it sees a fan,” she says between giggles.

“It’s the feud of the century.” 

“What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?” Julianna asks. “And is it the same place as today?”

“Um, I have to be there at 10 before the brunch rush. Tomorrow I work in the kitchen at Arturo's Underground Cafe,” I say. 

“No way! I love Arturo’s,” she says. “Would we totally embarrass you if we all came for breakfast.” 

“Hmm, I’d only spit a little bit in your food,” I laugh. She pushes my shoulder playfully and I almost slip off the bed, but she catches me and pulls me back on the bed. She pulls me closer than I was before and her hand lingers on mine. “Okay okay, I’m sorry I would love to have you guys stay for breakfast,” I say pretending that I’m scared of her now. 

“Good, I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer,” she laughs, rubbing my hand in apology. “I love Arturo’s. My mom and I would always go there when we visited Austin. We would order extra toast and bring it to the park down the street. There are actually huge fish in that pond and we would feed them the toast and narrate their behavior like they were on the show ‘River Monsters’.” 

“That’s amazing!” I laugh. “Your mom sounds great!”

“She really was,” Julianna says. “She passed away last January.” 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” I say kicking myself. “I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” Julianna says with a sad smile. “It’s nice talking about her with someone who didn’t know her. Whenever I want to talk about her with my family, it makes them all too sad.” 

“That’s really hard,” I say not knowing exactly what to say. “Well I would love to become an expert on her, so feel free to tell me all the stories you want. What was her name?”

“Her name was Robin,” Julianna sighs. “What's your mom like?” she asks after a second of silence.

There it is, talking about my family, my least favorite activity. But part of me wants to tell Julianna about all of it, a large part of me actually. “Well, she is very different from me. She is very controlling and who I am isn’t what she had planned for me,” I try to explain. 

“That really sucks, I’m sorry,” she says and I can tell that there is something that she wants to ask. “Is that why you don’t live with your parents?”

“Yes,” I say. She notices everything, she must have realized what my apartment building was. “She kicked me out when she found out that I was gay. Part of me thinks that she always knew, she just kicked me out when I couldn’t hide it anymore.”

“That’s terrible,” Julianna says, stroking my arm. “It was her only job to love you unconditionally. That is what parents sign up for when they have children. When they can’t do that, there is something wrong with them, there is absolutely nothing wrong with their children. Shay, there is nothing wrong with you or who you want to be. Who you are is fucking amazing.” 

I can’t say anything to that. She has left me speechless, those words are the complete opposite of the words that I grew up hearing, the words that I still say to myself. I don’t realize that there are tears coming out of my eyes until Julianna is wiping them away with her thumb. She pulls me into her chest and rests her chin on my head. This hug is the best one that my body has ever felt. It feels like the weight that I have been carrying around for so long is slowly slipping away. 

Sleep comes for me slowly then all at once. The gentle patterns that Julianna traces onto my back lull me to sleep and I don’t wake until morning.


End file.
